


as per the rules

by incarnandine



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dragons, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Magical tournament, magic is allowed, prince merlin!AU, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 19:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12416271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incarnandine/pseuds/incarnandine
Summary: “As per the rules of the tourney, I am granted one wish: I wish to marry your son.”





	as per the rules

**Author's Note:**

> Last year's advent drabble for [lost-nari](http://lost-nari.tumblr.com) who requested Merthur with the quote: _“As per the rules of the tourney, I am granted one wish: I wish to marry your son”_.
> 
> For more Merthur content you can find me on [tumblr](http://incarnandine.tumblr.com)!

The kingdom of Essetir is not a large one; it is, however, known for the magic tournament held annually a day before the grand feast of Yule. Come midwinter, the greatest wizards and witches gather to display their skills in a variety of competitions: seeing how magic is an unpredictable, fickle thing, it is not much like a knights’ tournament - too many deaths have caused the changing of rules over the years - and more of an artistic display of skill and beauty.

At the age of 15, Arthur Pendragon visits Essetir for Yule for the first time. He knows that there has been a treaty signed recently, upheld by the (much discussed) agreement to send his sister, the Lady Morgana, to Essetir for magical schooling; they haven’t seen each other in a year, now, so naturally he’s curious. In Camelot, magic has been taboo for so long that Arthur has not seen any instance of it aside from healing or occassional attacks to the country: those were set to a halt by the treaty with Essetir, because now, shall Camelot encounter any danger, the army of Essetir mages was ready to take action any instance to defend its ally.

So, naturally, his blue eyes are blown wide in wonder as he watches: there are creatures of all kinds and sizes, wyverns and faerie and dancing, feathered horses with wings _(how does one get a flying horse_ , Arthur wonders, _because he would very much like to own one_ ); there are beautiful women dancing in the air, their fingertips shooting fireworks and butterflies all at once and oh gods, Arthur blushes when a girl several years older than him ( _Sidhe princess, Sophia of Tir-Mor_ , his mother supplies with a frown because _Arthur you should already know those things_ ), pulls out a butterfly straight from behind his ear and smiles at him seductively.

After the girl - Sophia, Arthur tries to remember, a little dazed - there is a man in his thirties, looking at first like a street rascal and then he snaps his fingers; he turns into a large crow, a flock of smaller birds just as black as he is fluttering around him, and he dances into a whirlwind just to disappear with a spark and an elegant bow to the king of Essetir. Then, it’s Morgana - it’s his own _sister_ , Arthur remembers with his jaw hanging down, how did she - Morgana who creates gigantic ice sculptures of men and women, heroes and goddesses long forgotten from history, then sets them on fire and makes the sparks and blazes dance to tell their stories.

Arthur is awed.

The last competitor is a boy his own age, the son of the king of Essetir, Prince Emrys (call me Merlin, he heard last year, and everything he said back was _you have the most ridiculous ears, Merlin_ ); prince Emrys - _Merl_ in - who summons a dragon out of thin air; a graceful, lithe creature of white and silver, who flies high up to the sky, painting the same stories that Morgana told earlier but with an array of bright, bright colours, like paint splashes on the clear winter sky.

This display is the shortest, but everyone knows the winner; it is not because Merlin is the prince, no, it is because he simply is a step above everyone else.

There is a happy roar of the crowd; people clapping their hands, cheering, laughing and talking and Arthur stands up and claps his own hands as hard as he can, even if he knows his father slightly /disapproves/.

Then, prince Emrys - _Merlin_ \- now declared as an official winner of the annual tournament, makes a turn, jumps off his dragon and lands in a graceful bow directly before the loggia where Arthur and his parents are seated; he smiles just slightly before turning up a curious, inquiring glance at King Uther of Camelot, Arthur’s father.

“As per the rules of the tourney, I am granted one wish: I wish to marry your son.”


End file.
